Climbing Up the Rabbit Hole
by Neowan
Summary: In reality she's lying in a hospital bed with nearly no hope of ever waking up.  In her mind, all she knows is that she has to rescue this 'Percy' she's never even met before. Because some girls don't wait for saving, they rescue themselves. Percabeth.


**A/N: This is a prologue, so you get a lovely random guy's POV. This whole thing turned out a ton more angsty than I had imagined ughh. But next chapter I'm proud of, so you'll just have to wait until then. Also where the X.X.X is is where I change POVs and change it to present tense. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson, or The Simpsons. I only own the random guy that I made up. **

**Climbing up the Rabbit Hole**

In one place she's lying in a hospital bed with nearly no hope of ever waking up. In the other, all she knows is that she has to s this 'Percy' she's never even heard of before. And as lines become blurred, she knows this. Big girls don't wait for a knight in shining armour, they save themselves.

**Prologue: Losing Tides**

It took all but two seconds for the screech of metal tearing through human flesh to echo through the bustling city centre. It wasn't as if crashes were unusual, no, they happened almost daily here. Everyone had something better to do than pushing through herds of blurred faces. So no, there was nothing remotely strange about this particular situation.

That didn't mean, however, that you didn't feel a pang of sorrow for the victims, dead or not.

Today was a Tuesday, one of those plain and boring days that just seem to drag on forever. One of those days where you just want to bang your head on the table, and maybe just maybe get a few spare seconds of unconscious silence.

Timothy Walter's phone vibrated in his pocket for the seventeenth time this morning. Yes, he had tried turning it off but it was one of those phones that turn themselves back on at the most awkward of moments.

Right now if his boss called him he was just going to pretend he was on a toilet break, a very long toilet break.

Timothy wasn't a very extraordinary man; he practically lived in his office and spent his wages on buying gallons of coffee. Like every other dial-up TV technician that walked down that littered street. What marked him out as different was what he was about to do.

He could lie to himself that it was an accident; he could phone up his family and get them to tell him it was an accident. That was it though, it was a lie.

What Timothy did looked like a mishap, and in everyone's minds it was. Apart from Timothy's.

You see, Timothy pushed them. Why he did it, he may never know. Perhaps because they were annoying him, or because he was jealous that he didn't have that freedom when he was a kid. The freedom to waltz around Phoenix like nobody owned him. So he pushed them, right in front of a double-decker truck.

From then on out after that split second decision all Timothy was, was a breathing corpse. There was nothing to him, no emotions, nothing. Well not on the outside at least. What Timothy had was routine. He'd get up, dressed, drink some coffee, and then go to work. After he came home he'd watch a rerun of _The Simpsons _on the sofa, then have a ready meal and go to bed.

What Timothy had from the point onwards from the 'push' was a simple, but effective, routine. This allowed him to hide away in his shell, away from prying eyes that wanted drain his life from him. They wanted him to be their specimen, to let them slowly dissect his very living.

On the outside he looked like he had nothing, which was completely the wrong assumption. No, Timothy had something. Guilt. The guilt of a murderer, maybe because he was one.

What bugged him the most about those teens? Well, that was easy. They were just so chirpy, so happy. As if they didn't have a care in the world. They just pranced around and flicked their hair, while the grownups had to do all the work. That's the thing about teenagers, they get themselves into trouble then expect the adults to get them out of it.

But did that excuse him from pushing them in front of a van?

No, nothing could excuse you from that.

Because deep down Timothy knew why he pushed them in front of that van. No, it wasn't because of any of those reasons; they were just excuses, lies he'd tell to himself to keep himself sane.

On Tuesday 5th Timothy pushed five teens under a lorry, just because he felt like it.

**X.X.X**

An ungodly scream tore from Annabeth's mouth as metal curled around her body. But not before a boy with sea green eyes and jet black hair coiled around her.

When demigods die they die courageously in battle. Protecting the lives of the ones they love and the ones they don't. Demigods die as heroes, sacrificing themselves so that others may live on. Car crash? No, that's for normal people, and Annabeth was thoroughly not ordinary. She was anything but normal.

Annabeth didn't want a hero. No, Annabeth wanted to be the hero. Most people don't understand that, they expect girls to get kidnapped and wait for the boys to save them. They are expected to let the males be their hero, and fall madly, deeply in love with them. Annabeth wasn't one of those damsels in distress; she wasn't a daughter of Aphrodite that would cry if they got a chipped nail. So no, the daughter of Athena wanted anything more than some brainless fish to come and pretend to be her hero.

And that is why she hated Percy Jackson.

His arms clasped around her body, refusing to leave her unprotected. Every blow that belonged to her he stole, snatching everything away. Needless to say she struggled. Pushing her everything against him, nails dug their way into his arms, elbows jabbed into sides, there were even a few bites here and there. But nothing. His arms were cemented around her.

Another reason why she hated Percy Jackson, he just didn't know when to give up.

When they were little they would make fun of each other, pick at each other's weak points. Laugh at each other's failures. It was that that made each of them grow, they didn't fluff up things anymore, especially him. They were trained to show no weakness, to never lose at anything. Well for once Annabeth wished that he could lose.

Yet another reason why she hated Percy Jackson, could he just lose? For once… for her.

No, was the answer, because he didn't think. He'd sit there, act all innocent and go along with whatever strategy and then guess what he'd do? He'd blow it all up in her face. Being Percy he'd run off, nearly get himself killed and then of course survive.

It wasn't fair; he could just do the impossible with a snap of his fingers. That was also why she hated Percy Jackson.

Do you know though what the main reason why she loathed him was? It was because she cared about him, whether she'd admit it or not. Everything he did worried her; being a daughter of Athena she just couldn't help but think of the statistics. Think of how easily he could die just a split second decision and then dead, forever.

It all happened so fast, yet so sickeningly slow. She saw all the things she'd rather have not seen, and missed all the things she would've liked to have. She saw every hit that collided with the son of Poseidon's body, yet she didn't see Grover get dragged out of the way before the crash. She heard every crack that his bones made as they were broken, yet she didn't hear Thalia's screams, confirming that she was alive.

Shattered glass impaled themselves into his already battered body, raining down on us like some twisted sense of weather.

Most people in this moment would wish for their survival, but she didn't. Annabeth wished for him to live, going as far as trying to persuade the Gods to kill someone else instead. No, it wasn't a declaration of her love for him. It was so that she could murder him herself.

Then there was silence, well, outside there was anyway. All the girl with blonde curls could hear was the ringing of the crash in her head, replaying over, and over, and over. It wasn't until the fire brigade, the police and several ambulances came shooting down the road that the peace was finally broken.

They began with the ones they knew were alive, or at least hoped were alive. They believed that no one would survive the underbelly of the truck so they left them till last, which was their first mistake.

When they found her she was cuddled in the arms of a half dead halfblood, his blood painting their skin a vivid shade of red. The firemen stood there in disbelief, ideas failing them. A stout doctor waddled up to the two, pushing past the towering men, by the looks of it the boy was unconscious, the girl still struggling against his grip.

"Gods Percy, just wake up! You know this whole I'm pretending to be dead thing is really getting on my nerves, just quit it. Actually you know what I know you won't stop pretending, because you're never going to grow up. I swear Perseus Jackson, when you wake up I'm going to hit you so hard that you'll rebound off Olympia!" the girl screamed, her once blonde curls matted and coloured with his blood.

The doctor sighed, today was proving most… tiring. "Look sweetheart you're going to need to calm down, just talk to me okay while these men get you out of there. Okay so what's your name?" He stroked his bald head, slicking back his non-existent hair.

"I most certainly do not need to calm down, what I need is for him to stop acting like such an immature little harpy and stop playing such idiotic little games! I swear his head is truly full of sea…" then she stopped. Both the firemen and her had picked the opportune moment, the men in releasing her and the girl in smashing her head upwards in a blind fury.

The girl collapsed on the black haired boy, blood already dripping from her head.

Well, it looked like the medical examiner would have two bodies on her hands today.

**A/N: Yes, I get it. There was literally no dialogue what so ever, and Percy and Annabeth didn't start immediately making out. Sorry, but I enjoyed writing it this way. As for the dialogue, I'm sorry, I just didn't picture it with much. Besides this is only a prologue, also don't worry, the last sentence was from a pessimistic doctor's view. Reviews are much appreciated, but I'm not going to beg. **

**However I love to know what you think, also if there's anyone that's interested in telling me how to improve then free internet cookies for them. XD**


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